


Daggers & Flames

by Blueasthemoon



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, F/M, Magic, Multi, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 06:44:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueasthemoon/pseuds/Blueasthemoon
Summary: Love. Loss. Lies. A lot of anger and vengeance. Secrets. Betrayal. And Power.Jason was murdered by the Laughing King and Eris has never stopped craving revenge.





	1. B E F O R E

Three royals are ruling over the realm in peace and friendship. Queen Diana the Wise, King Clark the Powerful and High King Bruce the Just.  
After a terrible war the people finally knew peace, for our great leaders united to reign victory over the Laughing King who terrorized the land and brought chaos to the world for far too long.  
In a glorious battle they managed to pin him and his followers down, defeating them, but when it was time to decide upon Joker's fate... it seemed to be a greater challenge than the war itself.  
The three royals debated for three days and three nights and eventually King Bruce ruled to let Joker live. The Laughing King and his followers were banned into the Arkham Waste, being warned that if they ever came back they would meet their demise without any form of mercy.  
We had to fight, too. We were all mere children, not meant to participate in the horrors of war, but it was all in.  
The Waynes are masters of the fight and deception while the Daughters of Themyscira had been given knowledge and tools by the Gods themselves which made them incredibly skilled warriors and the wisest among us.  
We, the Kryptonians, are different. There is magic running through our veins that makes us stronger, that makes us powerful. At least that is the case with everyone in my family, but me and my mother. I never dwelled on my lack of power, my mother is just human after all, instead I learned from Themyscira and the Waynes to become the best I could be.  
My cousin Conner and brother Jon learned from my father while I rode down to Wayne Castle to be trained alongside Bruce's children.  
And they became my closest friends. Jason became even more.  
I remember it so clearly. He was next to me on his pitch black horse looking like the God of Death himself. I don't know if I imagined it, but Jason was smirking just so faintly as we rode down the hill ambushing the Laughing King.  
And we were great. For a split second I saw something in Joker's eyes. Not fear, but frustration and anger about our strength, about his men falling by the hand of children and their soldiers. It was only for a moment.  
Joker struck a deal with the Dark Druids what allowed him to use spells and potions to twist minds, a dangerous magic.  
To this day I am convinced we won the war because of Jason. It wasn't Bruce's tactics, or Themyscira's battle strength, nor was it the old Kryptonian magic. We won because the boy I lost my heart to when we were just children sacrificed himself so I could reach my father and report of the shift in power and new obstacles. Because of Jason we could adapt quickly, because of him we are all still alive.  
I was young back then yet the rage inside of me was a fire untamed. I wanted Bruce to torture Joker. I wanted to see Joker's lifeless body look just like Jason's. I still do.  
But Bruce let the man who killed so many, who killed his own son, walk free.  
I tried to move on. For years I tried to let my anger and thirst for revenge go, but I never could. Some would argue with me that Joker and his followers could have never survived the Arkham Waste, that even if they crossed it, there was nothing but death beyond.  
I couldn't believe them. I had faced Joker more than once and if I know one thing than that Joker lives to destroy lives. He doesn't just die without leaving a pit of blood. He can't. He would drag his body to the edge of hell just to pull some more souls down with him.

And I was right.


	2. O N E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotham is attacked.

The smoke rises into the sky like giant stone pillars. A grim orange hue surrounds Gotham as the flames eat away on whatever they touch. At times, the wind carries the sounds of agony all the way to us, letting us taste the death hanging in the air. 

I stand on the balcony with my father. He has been silent for a while now, taking in the demise of half Gotham City with a tight frown on his face. I know what he's thinking. He wants to fly down to help Bruce and his people, offering support and kindness. My father always wants to help. He would help others first before he would help himself. I admire it, but I rarely understand. King Clark the Powerful is fitting, for kindness is a powerful tool. 

"I think we should move the people to the castle, father," I say. I wholeheartedly believe that Gotham was just the beginning. "He won't stop at just Gotham."

"How do you know it's him?"

I don't answer. My eyes are glued to the smoke. How do I know? How does he not know? Only Joker could bring such destruction and suffering. 

"Conner and I ride down to Wayne Castle and help Bruce," I suggest. "You, mom and Jon organize everything here. Be there for the people."

My father smiles just so faintly as he looks at me. I know he's proud whenever I sound like the Queen I am not yet; give orders and make good decisions. I think it gives him hope I will not direct this land into chaos once he's gone. I've done enough to let him think I would.

"Very well then," he nods, laying his hand on my shoulder. "Take enough men with you and be careful."

I nod, "I always am." We both know it's a lie.

I walk towards the door, but father stops me. "Eris, I let you go because I know you won't use this tragedy to get to Bruce," he says in a stern tone, almost like it was a warning. 

I close my eyes for a second and feel the pain surge through me. I won't deny the sense of satisfaction I feel, but terror and fear, guilt and sorrow weighs heavier. People have most likely been killed. I have so many feelings for Bruce, but I would indeed never use this against him. I think I simply couldn't. 

I gather a few dozen men and women of the Kryptonian Guard, find Conner and say goodbye to my mother and brother. Our mission is clear: aid, protect and show the people we care. I am very sure Themscyira has already sent some of their healers and the Kings Guard must be busy getting ahold of the situation. All we can do is be present and help where help is needed what hopefully brings a sense of safety. 

"So you were right all along," Conner says after a while of silence. I hate the tone of his voice.

I am, but I don't need to hear it. It's not like being right about the weather. Father has acknowledged it and Conner did now, but they won't be the last to do it. I have been going on about how wrong it was to let Joker go for my entire life. Everyone in the kingdom knows how much I despise King Bruce for it. 

"Do you think he did it himself?" I ask instead. 

"I think it's impossible to do this alone," he looks ahead at the smoke.

I nod. Joker has followers. He always had.

I can physically not understand how someone could bow to the Laughing King. What motives could inspire you to follow a monster like Joker? I think all people who follow Joker are just as evil. It makes me sick and they don't deserve mercy for they have made their decision. I remember how father told me I cannot believe that everyone who follows Joker is truly bad. He said that sometimes people are led astray and that I have to help them find the right path and not punish them. "Everyone deserves a second chance," he said. I am not sure. 

"I haven't seen Bruce in months," I say quietly, thoughtful and maybe even with a pinch of fear. 

"I am surprised Clark let you go," Conner looks over. 

I chuckle.

The last time I have seen Bruce he ordered me to kneel and remember that he was still High King, that he was still my king. I did not. I turned around and I left. I haven't spoken to him since. 

I know my behavior could've ended in a war if the relations between Bruce and my father weren't so brotherly, yet I still did it. And I don't regret it. I was right. I am right still. 

"He asks about you," Conner says after a while. "Bruce, I mean."

"He does?" I frown. It's not what I expected, but at the same time I am not surprised.

Bruce and I... It is so very complicated. 

The closer we get to the city, the thicker the air gets. We encounter more people just aimlessly wandering about, stained with ash and some with blood. I swallow hard, but keep a steady face. 

We have almost reached the castle as Dick comes riding past us in a hurry. I have missed Dick the most and I hate that this tragedy is what brings us back together. 

"Eris?" He says softly. His face can't fathom a smile and I do not blame him.

"We came to help," I nod.

"It is highly appreciated," Dick is thankful yet can't hide the exhaustion. "Conner, they could need your strength down at the dam."

My cousin nods and disappears in the smoke. Dick and I ride on toward the castle.

"The people are gathering around and in the castle. The Kings Guard is too busy putting the fires out," Dick continues. 

"My men and I will look after the people then," I look at him. There is shock and desperation written in his face. His armor has a thin curtain of ash clinging to it tightly and the white chunks in his dark hair almost look like snow just so much more threatening. 

Dick sighs heavily, shaking his head, "he started fires down at the dam, one in the center square, one in Crime Alley and one in the merchant streets, but these fire aren't natural. I... I just can't understand. If I wouldn't know better I would think it's Fire Magic. Then he massacred the people who were fleeing the flames without mercy and at random. It was..." He does not find a word. "He calls himself the Arkham Knight." 

"Like in the stories?" The story of the Arkham Knight is a dark and old one. It is told to children for generations to keep them away from the Arkham Waste. No one knows if it's true or just a myth. 

"He left a message for us to find, declaring he is the Arkham Knight and he is here to bring vengeance and justice," Dick pauses for a moment. "And that he bows to the Laughing King."

I suck in a sharp breath as my body gets cold. I might have known it all this time, but to hear Dick say it... It makes my body tremor. I never wanted to be right. I never hoped to be right I knew I was, but still… . 

"You--" 

"Don't," I stop him for it does not matter and he nods, understanding. 

Dick and I depart as he is needed somewhere else. I deploy my men with their tasks before I engage with the people who are seeking refuge. 

I have always hated Gotham City for the pain this place inflicts on its inhabitants. It's like the land is cursed. Or like it punishes the people for reasons unknown to us.

I can't stop thinking about what Dick said about the fires. 

There is no fire magic left in the world, well, some believe it has never existed to begin with.

Dick, Jason and I know better though. Once we found an old, crumbling ruin as we were on one of our adventures. We weren't supposed to be there and it was way too dangerous in hindsight, but we climbed in anyway and found walls painted with dragons and symbols unknown to us. There was an altar that had a symbol for each element on it, but fire was at the center. I could feel the magical energy in every stone. I knew then that it wasn't just folklore, but our past. We couldn't tell our parents about this place or they would have killed us. .

Maybe the Arkham Knight is a Dark Druid or knows their tricks? The Dark Druids use the very essence of living beings to mimic magical energy. They suck it out of animals, plants and humans for their gain and lose a part of themselves with every spellwork. It is magic, but it's not natural and not good. Practicing Druidtism is a crime in our realm and something everyone condemns. 

I hope the Arkham Knight is a Dark Druid because if there truly is fire magic left somewhere in this world that Joker has access to... We are all already dead. 


	3. T W O

It is late.

The Amazon Healers have arrived shortly after we did. They are attending to the hurt while Alfred, my men and I organize the people for the night. We built as many tents as possible, moved as many as possible into the castle, we patrol the perimeter and help reunite families that got separated in the chaos.

It is all still a mess. No one was equipped for this to happen.

"Princess!" An Amazon stops me. I have forgotten her name. "We have a few pregnant woman down by the tents. Is there no space left somewhere in the castle? Maybe just a tiny room?"

I know Wayne Castle like I grew up in it myself. 

I take a deep breath, thinking, but also because I've dreaded this moment. "I have to check the space first, but I will come back to you as fast as possible." 

The room I have in mind is a forbidden area in the castle. Bruce has locked it and no one has ever dared to enter it since. No one desired to. It's Jason's old room.

I jog up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway. People are calling for me, but I want to be quick so I have to ignore them at least for now.

The closer I get to Jason's room, the more my heart beats and the more I want to turn around. I don't want to be reminded of him, see his belongings covered in dust. I don't need it. It was selfish of me to not move people in this hallway and room in the first place.

I am ready to pick the lock with my dagger, but the door is already open ajar for my surprise. A musky scent streams out of it. The air that has been locked into this room for nearly 8 years is set free. 

"Alfred?" I say assumingly and walk in, but it wasn't him.

In the middle of the room a figured dressed in black armor stands holding a small box. His face is covered by a mask and on his chest plate I can make out a letter, it is an A.

The shock only last for a second, then both of us draw our swords. The box he was holding drops to the floor. 

It's him. The one who is responsible for all of this. Jokers new weapon. The Arkham Knight.

Our swords clash so loudly the walls may have taken damage. He is skilled, very much so, but I am too. It is about who makes a mistake first. Sadly, I am good at that. 

I charge at him multiple times, but he can block me each. Then he sees an opening and comes at me relentlessly. He manages to make me drop to the floor and I lose my sword. In my sight I see the box that he was looking at and what fell out of it. Everything halts and changes in that split second. A fire lights inside of me I can't control. 

"Why were you looking at this!?" I grab the stone instead of my sword. I hold it out like it was a shield as his own sword comes down toward me. It stops right before my throat.

I sweep his leg in the moment of confusion and he crashes onto his back. I draw my dagger from my belt, getting on top of him and hold it to his throat. The stone is still in my other hand.

"Why were you looking at this!? Answer me," I yell.

He blows some kind of dust into my face. And I'm gone. 

××××

I wake up in what I recognize to be Bruce's chambers. My head is pounding and humming and the world feels like it's spinning. I feel exhausted. It is weird. My whole body feels like it's not mine. 

Bruce is sitting by my side. His face is hit by golden sun rays from what I make out to be sundown. He looks as grim and brooding as I remember. His dark hair has gradually become more grey and the crown seems to be less shiny now. 

I look around the room. My father should be here, but he is not. He knows when those things happen. When I was ten I fell from a huge tree here in Gotham. I climbed it to impress Jason. Before I could hit the ground my father caught me. He always knows. Why isn't he here now? 

My mind is so loud and unable to form a single thought, but then it hits me with a cold shiver. He is not here because he is busy. 

"Metropolis is burning, isn't it?" I say, my voice is rough and hurts.

Bruce turns his head and looks at me. His eyes are full of worry and exhaustion. He doesn't nod, but he doesn't deny it either. I swing my legs out of the bed and get up, but tumble the second I put weight on my limbs. Bruce catches me and sits me back down.

"I have to go," I say sternly. 

"You are not in the condition to ride home. Your people were somewhat prepared. They will be fine without you for now," Bruce reasons.

I take a deep breath. He's right. I told my father Gotham was just the beginning. 

"What happened?" Bruce asks. His voice is soft.

I need a moment to sort through my head, but I remember it all. "It was him. The Arkham Knight."

Bruce looks at me like he has seen a ghost. And I have the feeling the Arkham Knight might be one. 

I am still holding the stone in my hand. I can't tell Bruce about it. I wouldn't know how. 

Bruce gets up and paces through the room. I know what he is thinking, because so do I. "Say it."

He stops, meeting my eyes and sighs like he hoped I wouldn't pick it up, "I don't understand why he didn't kill you when he had the chance to do so. I'm glad he didn't, but... It's strange if you look at what he's done downtown."

"Maybe Joker wants to kill me himself?" I chuckle, but Bruce doesn't get the humor. "Maybe it's someone we know and I'm just not the target." 

"What makes you think that?" Bruce frowns. 

I swallow, "he was in Jason's room?"

"Joker knows how to play with someone's mind. He knows--" I see the tension in his muscles. "He knows Jason is our weakness."

I squeeze the stone in my hand. It has absorpt all of my body heat and is disgustingly warm to the touch. "You are probably right," I nod, but I don't fully believe it. 

Jason is our weakness. Bruce is right on that part. And Joker will try to get to us using Jason's death eventually, still this is different. It feels different to me at least. The Arkham Knight knows something. 

"You should rest some more," Bruce pauses for a moment like he is debating with himself to go on or not and I wish he would not. "I appreciate that you came to help despite what happened between us and I'm just glad you're not hurt."

Our eyes are locked like the first person to look away would be killed. I won't say it, because it doesn't have to be said. He knows. I didn't do it for Bruce. 

I simply nod and curl up under the blankets again, hearing him leave. My heart is racing and I hate it. I want to be over Bruce and all that has happened between us. I am not. I still feel flames inside my heart. 

As I'm sure he's gone for good, I slowly get up and walk to the balcony. Metropolis is looking just like Gotham did earlier. The giant smoke pillars rising into the sky, the grim hue surrounding the city. I have to leave. 

I finally open my palm and look at the stone. I have to leave. 

I walk back inside and find my armor. I slip the stone into a pocket of my belt and get dressed. I drink and eat what has been placed on the night stand because I still feel sick and hope it makes it better. 

I know Bruce has placed guards by the doors so I don't even bother to try just walking out of here. 


	4. T H R E E

I am not riding home taking the fastest road, but follow the river instead.

There is too much going on in my mind and my body still feels sick. I need a moment to collect myself before I can be of any help at home.

Joker is alive and while I've known all along it is something entirely different now that I have concrete proof. All this time I was just angry, now I'm scared. 

I'm scared of what Joker has planned, I'm scared of him already marching toward us with an army stronger than ours. I'm scared of losing anyone else. I don't think I can. 

I feel like I have asked for this. That this is partly my fault for never truly forgiving Bruce and letting this go… letting Jason go. 

I hear twigs break in the distance and stop my horse. It's the stage right before it gets truly dark that coats everything in a gloomy blue sheen. The few trees around don't give enough cover so I can clearly make out a figure walking past me. I don't feel threatened for I'm having four strong legs beneath me that could take me out of here in no time.

"You remember what happened here?" The figure calls out with a voice I can't say I recognize. It sounds fragile yet taut and rough. It simply sounds broken, leaving me with a shiver on my skin. I can make out the A on his armor now and while I feel alarmed, he seems to not be threatening me right in this moment. He knew I was going to take this road and I don't know how to feel about that. I want to hear what he has to say for I'm curious why he would reach out to me like this and confused about why he didn't kill me earlier. It doesn't matter much, though. He follows Joker. That's all I truly need to know. 

I reach for my belt and get the stone out, tossing it to him. "Do you?" I crock an eyebrow. 

He catches the stone and nods. 

I scoff, "did Joker tell you about how a single stone could stop him from harming the Prince of Gotham? Surely a funny anecdote."

"It is indeed," he agrees. "More so if you've been there yourself. I remember how you threw that stone so hard it bounced from Joker's face into my lap and confused him so much we could run back to the Kings Guard."

Every muscle in my body tenses up. I clench my jar so hard I'm sure my head is becoming firey red in anger. How does he dare? Joker has no respect for anything, not even the dead. Bruce knew this would happen and I should have been more prepared because every cell in my body is on fire right now. I have to stay rational, but that is so very hard. He wants to get in my head. That's all. I can do this. 

I take a deep breath. "If your false king thinks he can get to us like that. He is wrong."

The Arkham Knight chuckles. "You really have no idea, do you, Eris?" He takes his mask off revealing himself to me. 

I swallow. I feel dizzy and like nothing is real, it's all a blur now. I don't feel my body anymore. The person staring back at me looks like Jason, but I know better than to believe it. It can't be. I know it can't be. Yet, I can't control myself. 

I jump off my horse and draw my sword. My hand is shaking and I have a hard time keeping it somewhat steady. The Arkham Knight doesn't bother to move as I come closer and it irritates me even further. I strike at him, weakly at best, and he catches my wrist, forcing me to look at him. I drop my blade. I might be going insane. 

I'm staring back at eyes as blue as the Themysciran sea and I have never met another person who fits that description. Jason's eyes have always been full of life and were sparkling with wit, the only difference is that these eyes are just empty. 

"It's me," he says in a husk. "I know you believe me, but dig up my grave if you need more proof."

I jank my arm from his grip and step away from him. It can't be. It just can't be. "Why would Jason follow the Laughing King? You're foolish if you think--" 

"Because Bruce has to pay for what he's done," his voice is more agitated now. 

I could list so many things Bruce has done that were beyond wrong, but not one that could cause Jason to become so vengeful he'd burn down his city and kill his own people. "Bruce has done nothing to Jason that could justify this. Find a better story."

"He sent us there to die, Eris. You know that, too. It was his decision. Because of him I had to go through what Joker did to me," the words slip painfully over his tongue and his voice is brittle. "Because of Bruce my life was stolen from me. It all comes down to Bruce not doing what is necessary. It is all his fault. He did this to me!"

I suck in a sharp breath and look at him. My own eyes try to hold tears back. My lip is trembling.

How can it be? I can't believe I consider his words. How can it be? It cannot. He wants to hurt me and I let him succeed. I am upset. I am confused. I am scared he is saying the truth. What magic would be powerful enough to bring a dead person back to life? If it was possible, what needs to be sacrificed for it? I cannot grasp it. I don't want to. I cannot let myself. 

I shake my head. "You're lying." I pick up my sword and walk back to my horse, mounting. 

"Eris--" 

"Next time our paths cross there won't be need for talking," I say and ride off. 

I just ride aimlessly, letting the anger and paralyzing fear consume me. What am I supposed to do now? If I dig up his grave I did exactly what he asked me to do and what if it's a trap? Yet everything in my body wants to, screams to me to do it. 

The sky above me breaks open releasing a flood of water. I don't allow myself to cry. Not yet. I can't. I have to know the truth. If it's a trap then I'll deal with the consequences. 

I push my horse more than I should and arrive back at Wayne Castle. Most people are inside the refuge tents. For my surprise my father is here. He's flying above one of the tents trying to patch up a hole. Bruce is on the ground shouting instructions. I see how tensed my father is. 

I get off my horse, handing it to a guard and hurry up to the entrance. My father sees me and relaxes.

"We've been worried! I came to pick you up and--" he lands in front of me, but I avoid him and keep walking.

Seeing this Bruce hurries over as well, "what happened?" 

I don't answer. The entrance hall is full of people. Steph and Duke are handing out food. I jog up a flight of stairs. A girl grabs my arm. Her mouth is moving. I recognize her. I don't have time for this. I jank my arm away forcefully and keep walking. The throne hall is full of people, too. I hurry to the other side and push the glass doors open that lead to the garden. The rain lashes into my face. I grab a shovel. I feel father reaching out for me. I start running. The graveyard is in the very back. I reach it. There's a flower on Jason grave. I stop.

My heart is running so fast I almost feel it crawling up my throat. My hands are shaking like the trees in the wind and I feel hot and cold at the same time. If I find an empty coffin... How am I supposed to live with that? How are we supposed to live with that? If I find an empty coffin, what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to help Jason? 

I start to dig. Frantically. The flower on his grave flies to the pile of dirt I am creating. We will have to live with it. 

"Eris?" My father says carefully and grabs my arms from behind, making me stop. 

Bruce takes the shovel from my shaking hands.

"What's going on?" My father holds me. The warmth of his body is covering me like a protective shield. I lean back against him.

"I took the river road home. I needed to think," I explain. "When he attacked me in Jason's room, he was looking at something that meant something to Jason and me. He knew I would take the river road," I say in disbelief. "He knew."

"Did he attack you?" Bruce's eyes scan over me.

"No. He wanted to talk. And he took his mask off," my eyes linger on Jason's gravestone.

My father's hands move to my shoulders. He squeezes them tenderly. "Joker knows he can get to us all through what happened to Jason, Eris. Especially you and Bruce."

"Whatever the Arkham Knight said. It's lies. It's a game. It's Joker," Bruce argues. "Jason is gone."

"I need to know you're right," my eyes meet Bruce's. "I need proof. I need to know that these eyes I just looked into are not Jason's. I can't just take your word. I need proof."

Bruce is the first to break away from our gaze. He looks at the gravestone, then up into the sky. His shoulders lift then sink. He digs the shovel into the ground so it supports itself, rolls up his sticky sleeves and begins to dig.

My father lets me go and I drop to my knees, digging with my hands. Alfred soon joins with more shovels and we reach the marble coffin quickly. Dick, Cass and Tim have found us here at some point and helped as well. 

I look at Bruce before jumping into the hole. The rain seems to have gotten even worse. I pull my dagger out and crack the coffin open. My hands aren't shaking anymore. I don't even feel my heart beating right now.

I open the coffin and suddenly there is no rain. There is nothing at all. There is no dagger in my hand, there are no clothes sticking to my skin and there's no soaked hair falling into my face. There's no dirt hurting beneath my nails. There's no Bruce and there's no Joker. There's no castle and there's no Gotham. There is just nothingness. 

The coffin is empty except for a playing card, except for a Joker. It's empty. 

I look up and the tears I've tried to hold in run free, becoming one with the heavy raindrops falling onto me. How could this happen? 

My father lifts me out of the empty grave and just holds me. I feel his heart beating fast as I bury my face into his chest.

There is absolute silence except for my quiet sobs. No one dares to speak a word. No one has any words to speak. How could this happened? 

"We should all go inside and warm up," Alfred finally says. His voice sounds strangled.

We just follow him like empty shells. We are at the top of the flight of stairs and I break from my father's embrace, dragging my hand over my cheeks in an attempt to dry the tears. They all stop and watch me, confused. 

I feel absolutely empty, every bone in my body feels miserable, but I know what I have to do nonetheless. 

I kneel down in front of the girl I pushed away earlier. "You found your brother," I say and mention to the kid sleeping on her lap. I recognized her because I helped her earlier and tried to find her brother. She just nods with big eyes staring at me. "I am sorry for what I did earlier. I shouldn't have pushed you like that. Can you forgive me?" 

"Of course, princess," she nods again. "Are you alright?" 

Tears roll over my checks. I shake my head and take a deep breath, "no. But I will be. We are all going to be."


End file.
